


Look Me In The Damn Eyes

by nine_thursdays



Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Angst, Blow Jobs, Bond is reckless, Established Relationship, Hand Jobs, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Morning Sex, PTSD, Panic Attacks, Post-Skyfall, Protective Q, Tagging as I go, Worried Q, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-04
Updated: 2015-06-04
Packaged: 2018-04-02 20:15:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4072936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nine_thursdays/pseuds/nine_thursdays
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>MI6 Special Agent 007 James Bond staggered back and fell against the wall from a shove by a pale, skinny and very, very angry quartermaster.</p><p>“Goddamnit, James! You didn’t listen and you nearly died!”</p><p> </p><p>Or the one where Q and Bond are broken boys in love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Tell Me You Don't Care

MI6 Special Agent 007 James Bond staggered back and fell against the wall from a shove by a pale, skinny and very, very angry quartermaster.

“Goddamnit, James! You didn’t listen and you nearly died!”

Ignoring the ache in his still-healing shoulder, Bond stood and took a tentative step towards Q, who stood, shaking violently, hands clenched at his sides.

Ever since Bond returned from the fateful Skyfall mission, his and Q’s relationship had been struggling.  
In short, Q was angry. Bond had gone off the reservation with M, all but forcing Q to leave the trail of computer breadcrumbs that led to Silva finding Bond at Skyfall, and M and Silva’s death. Q felt responsible, but blamed James at the same time for leaving him no choice.

Bond and Q had been seeing one another for about a month before the Skyfall mission. 

A month of dinner dates, movie dates, and eventually sleeping together.

It was all Q ever wanted, and things were going so well he couldn’t believe it. That James Bond, renowned for skills and promiscuity alike, wanted Q.

And then Bond had to go on that damned mission, right at the start, with the bloody list of names.

Bond had been missing for so long Q was a wreck when he came back, a wreck of alcoholism and lack of sleep.  
Bu the pair had worked it out.  
Or so Q had thought.  
And then Bond nearly lost his damn life fighting Silva at his family home in Scotland.   
And here they were.

Bond took another step towards Q, putting him within arm’s reach.  
Q moved to shove him back again, fighting off tears.  
This time the agent was more prepared, and instead grabbed the arms that came his way, pulling Q in close.  
“Q, look, I never-“

“I don’t care!”

Q was crying now, ugly tears rolling down his face as struggled against the arms of the man who meant so much to him.

“You don’t mean that…”

“Yes, Bond, I do! Now let me go. Let me go!”

Finally getting free, Q staggered from James’ arms into the centre of his living room.  
Turning, Q now saw that James also looked furious. The two stood, a silent face off, Q still crying silently while James looked like he wasn’t far from it himself, his handsome face screwed up in confused anger, blue eyes unwavering as they looked into Q’s.

When the older man spoke, it was with a tone that, to the untrained person, sounded cold and cruel, but Q knew better. Bond’s voice belied a quiver that showed how much this was affecting him.

“If you can look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t care, I’ll leave.”

He’d called Q’s bluff, and they both knew it.  
Bond took a step forward, so that he and Q were toe to toe, and the agent looked down into his quartermaster’s eyes

“Look me in the eyes and tell me.”

He repeated.  
Couldn’t do it, and kept his eyes resolutely fixed on his lover’s tie, a blue silk affair that Q himself had bought not three weeks prior.

Suddenly Bond exploded

“LOOK ME IN THE EYES, Q, AND TELL ME THAT YOU DON’T CARE”

Q jumped back and shrank against the furniture.

Seeing his lover scared of him made something snap inside Bond.  
He lifted a hand halfway, as though he were going to drag Q to him, but thought better of it. In an almost inaudible voice, the double o agent whispered

“I’m sorry.”

And with that, James Bond was gone out of the door, leaving his beloved quartermaster to collapse of the floor alone, hugging his knees as tears streamed down his face.


	2. Tell Me You Can Accept That

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Q was at work early the next morning, his apartment on London’s south bank too full of echoes of Bond.
> 
> Standing in the middle of the Q branch floor in Churchill’s bunker, still waiting for a new building after the last one was wrecked by Silva’s bomb, Q was totally engrossed in his work, cracking a new code sent from M.
> 
> So engrossed was he, in fact, that he didn’t hear a certain double o agent coming up behind him until a gravelly voice came from his left.

Q was at work early the next morning, his apartment on London’s south bank too full of echoes of Bond.

Standing in the middle of the Q branch floor in Churchill’s bunker, still waiting for a new building after the last one was wrecked by Silva’s bomb, Q was totally engrossed in his work, cracking a new code sent from M.

So engrossed was he, in fact, that he didn’t hear a certain double o agent coming up behind him until a gravelly voice came from his left.

“Q”

Q froze, torn. He wanted to turn and see James, see is he was a desperately unhappy as Q himself was, but he also wanted to resolutely ignore the stupid man until he stopped being so reckless.

Bond didn’t actually give him a choice, coming round the desk to stand in front of Q.

“Q”

He repeated. Q sighed, and decided going on the offensive was his best option.

Plus, he thought snidely, Bond is used to offensive.

“Yes, 007, that is in fact my name.”

Bond’s eyes hardened, making them look like ice shards.

“Cut the shit. We need to talk.”

“I’m currently busy with things that don’t rush off to get themselves killed.”

The pair weren’t exactly being quiet, but Q branch was deserted due to the ungodly hour. This meant that when Bond reached over and grabbed both of Q‘s wrists and pulled him into the private office, nobody was around to question it.

Bond slammed the door behind them, the frosted glass door shaking in it’s frame.

“Bond, wha-“

“No, Q, shut it. We are going to have this conversation now.”

Seeing no way out, Q slumped against the wooden desk and watched Bond balefully as the older man came over and put both hands on Q’s bony shoulders.

“First, I’m sorry for last night. Second, I’m not sorry about the Skyfall mission.”

At the mention of Skyfall, Q straightened his spine and shook off Bond’s hand, preparing for an argument, but Bond continued

“I did what needed to be done, and while M died, it was what was needed to take down Silva but dn’t thin for a second…”

Bond voice unexpectedly caught, and when he continued, he sounded tired

“…that her death meant nothing to me. Also, stop blaming yourself.”

Bond stopped, breathing hard, an inch from Q, who suddenly saw everything the other man had been through, and reached forward and gently pulled Bond into a hug.  
The blond man stiffened for a minute, then just melted into the smaller man’s embrace, wrapping strong arms around his waist.

Too soon did Bond pull away in Q’s opinion, especially when he said words Q really, really didn’t want to hear.

“I’m also not sorry about the danger I put myself in. It’s my job, my duty, to protect and serve this country, and my safety comes second. I know you worry, but I have to do it. And even if I didn’t have to, I probably would. I need you to accept that.”

A solitary tear rolled down Bond’s face, rare for a man of such stoic tendencies, especially away from the security of either of their homes.

“Q, I need you to look in my eyes and tell me you can accept that.”

A sad smile fled across Q’s face as he reached out to brush the tear from his over’s face as he looked into eyes as blue as the summer sky.

“I can accept that. I’m still going to worry about you though, and YOU will have to accept that.”

Bond chuckled as he pulled Q back into his arms.

“ Yes, sir.”

Then, away from the eyes of employees just starting to trickle into Q branch, James Bond kissed his quartermaster slow and deep, tongue slipping into the younger man’s mouth before he pulled away and opened the door, winking at the disheveled Q before sauntering out.


	3. Tell Me That's Pepperoni

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A week later, Q and Bond were back to normal.
> 
> Or, Q thought amusedly, as normal as two spies can be when dating.

A week later, Q and Bond were back to normal.

Or, Q thought amusedly, as normal as two spies can be when dating.

 

Tonight was ‘date night’, meaning the pair met in either Q or Bond’s apartment and ordered food in and watched some dumb film on TV.

It was Q’s turn tonight, and he’d got home from the office/bunker to realise his shoebox apartment was a mess – clothes everywhere, half-full cups of cold tea, folders and random tech strewn about the place.

He was just putting the last pair of boxers in the laundry basket when there was a gentle knock at the door.

Grinning, Q turned to the door and promptly tripped over his coffee table.

 

“Shit shit shit…”

 

He mumbled to himself as he stumbled to the door, pulling it open to find a certain tall blond man leaning on the doorframe with a knowing smile plastered over his smug face, the bastard.

 

“Don’t say a word”

 

Q warned as he tugged the older man inside

 

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

 

Bond said as he neatly sidestepped the offending coffee table.

While Q dug around for a take away menu, Bond made himself at home.

For a man usually so rigid in posture and attitude, alert at all times, he looked decidedly relaxed as he lay on Q’s sofa, bare feet sticking over the end.

Pizza ordered, Q came and sat on the end of the sofa, James’ head in his lap as they bickered over what to watch.

They never watched any espionage films – Bond would either pick faults with the film for the entire 90 minutes, or on occasion - after a recent mission - would get worked up and distressed by gunfire and scenes of torture.

Carding his hand’s through James’ blond hair as The Lord of the Rings began to play, Q recalled one such occasion…

 

 

_Q had just been thinking how long it’d been since he’d watched The Bourne Identity when he felt Bond tense up at his side._

_On screen, Jason Bourne was in the midst of a gunfight, but it was clear from the older man’s breathing that, to him, he was the one in the fight._

_Q reached out for the remote and paused the film, turning his full attention to his lover._

_“James? James, are you okay?”_

_The blond was breathing hard, looking at something Q couldn’t see, as though he were someplace else…_

_Placing a hand on Bond’s rapidly rising and falling chest, Q leant in and spoke calmly, or as calmly as he could manage_

_“James, you’re alright, you’re safe. I’m right here, nobody is going to hurt you…”_

_All of a sudden, the older man lashed out, punching Q in the face and then scrambling over the back of the sofa and into a corner, a knife clutched in two shaking hands and pointed outwards._

_Q, meanwhile, was lying on the floor in a daze, seeing stars._

_He knew he needed to help James, but couldn’t think straight, head reeling from the right cross he’d received._

_He eventually found his feet, and went and sat in front of James, about four feet away, to put James at ease._

_Q then began to talk._

_“One my way to work the other day I saw a woman with a dog and a small child, and I thought, how does she have time for that? But then I thought about how she’d view us if she knew – how do they have time for all that work, she’d think. But then everyone has different priorities, don’t they. Like, I’d rather read a book than go swimming, but you might like to go for a run rather than read. What do you think? Would you rather…”_

_As he rambled on about nothing and everything, James’ shoulders slowly relaxed, bit by bit, and his eyes came back into focus until Q could see he was back in the apartment._

_Edging forward, Q gently tugged the knife from Jams’ now slack hands, and pulled the older man into his lap, rocking him slightly._

_Bond clutched Q like he was a lifejacket in a stormy sea, shoulders shuddering as he cried onto Q’s shoulder, who just continued to rock the agent._

_They fell asleep like that, Q’s bony arms wrapped around the older man, who had his face buried in Q’s jumper, together leaning against the wall until morning came._

 

Q was jerked back to the present by the sound of the doorbell.

Leaping up to get it and almost shoving a disgruntled Bond off the sofa in the process, Q answered it and collected the pizza.

As he made his way back to his agent, avoiding the cursed coffee table, Bond murmured

 

“Tell me that’s pepperoni”

 

Q laughed as he plonked himself back on the sofa and Bond rearranged himself to somehow be lying on Q but also able to reach for the pizza, which was indeed, pepperoni.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sidenote - I have no idea how to treat a panic attack, so please don't take this as literal advice, because everyone is different so this may work for someone but not for someone else.


	4. Tell Me I'm A Good Boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Q woke up to sunlight filtering through his blinds and a certain agent in his bed.

Q woke up to sunlight filtering through his blinds and a certain agent in his bed.

James Bond has an arms draped over the young quartermaster’s pale back, and one leg slipped between Q’s own.

Resting his head on this left arm, Q reached out with his right and traced lazy circles over his lover’s shoulder’s.

Bond smiled before he even opened his eyes

“Good morning, love.”

Q blushed and lent forward to kiss Bond’s right forearm in response.

Their moment was somewhat disturbed by a harsh electronic ringing, and Q groaned as he rolled over to fumble for his mobile phone.  
Tapping the ‘accept call’ button, he groggily answered

“Hello?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, did I wake sleeping beauty?”  
Came Moneypenny’s teasing voice from the phone’s speakers.

Before Q could respond, however, a large hand was pulling the receiver from his hand.

“Moneypenny. It’s Bond.”

Q fell back amongst his pillows, wondering how bad things could be now Moneypenny knew about their relationship. However, he reasoned, they hadn’t hidden it either, and Moneypenny was usually discreet.

Next thing Q knew, his phone was being tossed back on the floor as Bond pulled the younger man closer.

“You and I are having the day off.”

Knowing better than to argue, Q snuggled in closer to Bond’s chest, angling his neck up to steal a kiss from the agent, before moving to a more comfortable position to go back to sleep.

However, Bond had other ideas.

With ease, he flipped Q over onto his back and leant over him on his elbows, smoothing Q’s bedhead as the quartermaster looked up at him.

“So, 007”  
Q asked teasingly  
“What on earth are we going to do with our day off?”

Bond leant down and nipped at the shell of Q’s ear, and the young man arched into the touch

“I’m sure I’ll think of something”

James replied, his voice dark with lust and desire

The blond man then leant down and captured his quartermaster’s mouth in a kiss that mad Q forget everything except the feel of James, his hands on Q’s chest and his dick hard against Q‘s thigh.

For what felt like an age, the two men explored on another with their hands, and then moths, as Q rolled them so he was on top, and then licked and sucked his way down Bond’s chest, marking his way down to his lover’s dick, hot and heavy on James’ abdomen.

Q took Bond into his mouth, encasing his dick in the wet heat, and began to suck slowly, while James ran his hands though Q’s curly dark hair, tugging and pulling to guide the young man as a cascade of moans and grunts fell from the older agent’s mouth.

Q picked up his pace, using his hands to stroke James’ balls, and soon the agent was spilling down Q’s throat with a guttural cry.

Q swallowed everything, milking James dry, before the blond pulled Q up the bed and kissed the younger man with an intense passion, before whispering

“Good boy.”

The younger man shivered at the praise and arched into James’ touch as the older man captured his mouth, slipping his tongue inside Q’s mouth, tasting himself and exploring every inch of Q, as his hands moved ever lower until he grasped Q’s dick, and the quartermaster broke the kiss to gasp into Bond’s mouth.  
The older agent got him off with practised ease, a combination of his hands and his mouth on Q’s neck, until the younger man spilled between them with a cry.

Q lay, boneless on the bed, as Bond got a damp cloth from the en-suite to clean them up, before re-joining his Q on the bed.

Yeah, Q thought, a day off sounded good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I suck at writing smut but I tried and I hope it turned out okay...  
> Also is the title too porn-y? Whatever


End file.
